


went walking in a funny little forest

by hariboo



Category: Merlin BBC
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-05
Updated: 2010-02-05
Packaged: 2017-10-07 01:10:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hariboo/pseuds/hariboo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Merlin and Morgana have to leave Camelot for their own safety, they find the forest very... <i>interesting</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	went walking in a funny little forest

**Author's Note:**

> minor sequel to _the soul of our shoes are all worn down_.

They think everything is okay now that Arthur and Gwen know, now that there are no secrets between the four of them. 

They think they're _safe_. 

They're wrong. 

**

So, it begins (or ends, depending how you look at it) like this: 

Morgana yells. 

In result everything slows down. It's not Merlin that slows time down even if he's the only one not affected by it, but it wasn't Morgana's intention to slow Merlin anyway, not when the fireball is heading towards Arthur and she knows Merlin is her only ally at the moment. She thinks that she was quick enough to shift the movement of time around them, but she's never done it before (she hadn't _known_ she could do it) and already she can feel the magic unravelling at the edges. 

Out of the corner of her eye she sees the witch responsible for the fireball move a fraction of an inch and realises that the woman is fighting the time freeze with her own magic. Morgana concentrates, feeling the pressure of the attack on her magic everywhere in her body.

"Merlin! I cannot hold it for much longer, you must hurry!" She grits out, knuckles turning white as she grips the chair. 

His hands are raised level with his eyes and she can hear the incantation he is whispering to disintegrate the fireball. Morgana can see the smoke swirling into the air and feels relief. It might have been better had Merlin altered time and she dealt with the fireball, but she was quicker and Merlin's elemental magic is nothing to kid about either. The fireball is becoming suspended ash and Morgana feels relief. Time is moving closer to its natural speed but nobody not Magic would notice. 

Were it only her and Merlin in the room she would not be worried. As it is, they are not the only two with magic in the room. 

The witch is moving, pushing her foot forward. 

"Morgana, now!" Merlin shouts at her, feeling the same shift in magic she must be feeling and with a breath Morgana lets go. 

Like the flip of a coin time speeds up again and the fireball is black dust in the air in front of Arthur. It falls like dirty snow at his feet. Everyone reels in shock. 

Well, almost everyone.

The witch yells and sends two more. Fire sprouting from her hands again and moves towards Arthur and her.

This time though she and Merlin are ready and across the room they share a look. Merlin's eyes flash gold, she does not know if hers do, but she feels something alter in her.

_Damn the consequences._ 

Elemental magic is still new to her, but like in every other avenue of her life, Morgana follows her instincts. They have not failed her thus far. The power crackles down her arm and continues down to her fingers, they curl gently and her elbow bends. Her wrist turns, lightning travelling through her delicate bones and with a short, sharp move she sends her power _out_. 

It collides with the fireball heading towards Arthur as Merlin's power collides with other. At once the flames are gone and more black ash falls to the floor. Immediately, she turns to the witch and with nothing but a look sends the old hag flying into the stone wall. She can feel Merlin's power push alongside hers and she knows the woman is dead. 

She also knows that in the next second everything will change. 

"GAURDS, SIEZE THEM!" 

For a second no one in the throne room moves, the shock of the King's ward and Prince's manservant being Magical causing them to go rigid almost as well as the magic had. Then, the click of metal sounds, whispers and shuffling beings, but nothing is louder than the anger in Uther's eyes.  

Morgana steels her body as she feels leather gloves and gauntlets against her skin, but does not struggle like a coward would. Across the room the same is happening to Merlin, and for the brief moment the manage to look at each other, they know it was worth it because Arthur is alive. She is dragged and turned to face the Uther (never _father_, never more than _my lord_ and now she knows why), Merlin pushed next to her. 

In this moment Morgana realises she's never known true hate and anger until this now. Until this look in the King's eyes. There is pain and betrayal in his eyes, but most of all there is death and hate and they're all aimed at her and Merlin. She is not as proud as most would think to deny the fear and heartache she feels. Uther has been the closest thing to family she's had in her life in many years, but for a long time now she's known her path lies in opposition to his. It does not make the dull ache in her chest any less painful. In this moment she is aware the thin bond that has tied her to the King has been severed irrevocably. As that thought filters through, she turns her mind to the other Pendragon who is standing silently next to his father, clearly still in shock at her and Merlin's actions. 

Arthur is still at his father's side and she knows that it's taking every ounce of self control he has not to say anything that will put them at risk even more. He locks eyes with her, guilt, worry and fear swirling in them. They stay on her for a beat longer than they should, but Uther is too angry to notice, thankfully, and slide over to Merlin looking equally miserable. 

Just as Uther begins to speak— to damn her and Merlin— Arthur cuts in, his voice strong. 

"Father."

But Arthur is only the prince and Uther's voice, powered by hate and death, is stronger. "_What is the treachery!_" His voice booms across the hall and she can feel everyone falter, everyone but her, Arthur who only stands straighter and Merlin whose magic she feels shift defensively next to her. 

"My lord," she starts, because while she can see her death in the King's eyes, she will not fear him. 

"SILENCE, I will not listen to your poison words." He steps forwards, drawing his sword to her chin, looking down on her and she lets her chin brush the metal to look him straight on. "I saw you as a daughter." Uther spits the last word out and lowers his sword, the fire in his eyes has turned from hot to cold and Morgana will always be able to say was the exact moment that Uther Pendragon just stopped caring about her in any familial way. 

He turns to the knights, "Take them to the dungeons, they are to be executed at dawn." 

"Father!" Arthur steps forward, and _stupidly_, but bravely stands between his father and her and Merlin. "You cannot do this! Did you not see they just saved my life?" 

Uther turns on Arthur and Morgana automatically feels her magic rise to meet Merlin's in case this turns for the worse. Not that she's sure how it can get _worse_ with the threat of death over her head, but then again Arthur always manages to surprise her when she least expects it. 

"_You will not argue with me on this matter_." Uther advances on Arthur, and for the first time in her life Morgana worries if Uther loves his son _enough_. If he loves his son more than he hates magic. 

Arthur, in his noble stupidity advances on his father himself, "You cannot condemn them for trying to protect me." 

_Merlin, we have stop him._ 

"Magic protects no one! Guards, take them away!"

_It's not as easy as it with us._

_Try._ 

She can feel Merlin concentrate as their minds connect, together they reach other for Arthur and _there_. 

_Arthur, stop—you prat—you'll only make it worse—get us killed sooner_. 

Arthur's reaction would be almost funny were it _any_ situation but this one, his face freezing for a split second, eyes snapping to them. 

"M—Father, you can't." He ignores them, naturally. 

Uther hardens his gaze towards his son, "I will not hesitate to send you to the dungeons as well if you continue this insubordinate act. I am your _lord_." 

Arthur looks like he's going to argue again, but with another glance to them he steps from where he's been standing between them and his father. 

Uther looks pleased as Arthur backs down and Morgana truly hates him for that brief second. "Guards," he repeats and immediately they move, their hands curling tightly on her arms, bruises already forming. As she and Merlin are dragged out like common criminals Morgana searches the hall for Gwen. When she finds her friend's face in the crowd as Gwen quietly follows them out keeping close to wall she's not surprised at the tears streaking Gwen's face. She tries to reassure her with a look, but it's an empty gesture. Next to her she feels Merlin as the guards push him roughly— rougher than than they're treating her by far— down the castle halls and reaches out with her mind. 

_Escape?_

Not quiet yet. 

They're going to want to say goodbye.

**

They escape. It is almost a lark for they are not worried about it one bit. 

It's what happens before they escape that really tests them:

Arthur, un-shockingly, barrels his way into the dungeons and dismisses the guard with a sharp order that Morgana smirks at. 

"Are you two completely insane! Are you not aware of what you've done! Of how _stupid_ you've been? I-I…" he breaks off, standing in front of them, their bodies form a triangle and Arthur reaches to drop his hand on the cold iron that separates them, "I cannot do anything without raising suspicion. _Fools_." 

Merlin rolls his eyes and scoffs, "Clearly, we just shouldn't have saved you then." 

"Merlin," Arthur sighs in that annoyed yet affectionate way that he does and turns to Morgana, "you both should have been more careful." As his eyes meets her, Morgana understands what he's telling her. Merlin will always be lackadaisical with his power, a stupid but endearing trait, but she, she's lived under Uther's roof, she should have known _better_.

Now Morgana scoffs, "There was not time to be careful, Arthur." She takes a step forward and covers his hand with her own. After what he's seen her do she's grateful that despite the way his eyes flick to her hand he does not flinch. Inwardly she smiles, proud, "As much as we can wish for a different outcome, we all know it's fruitless. Regardless, we don't regret it." 

Next to her Merlin nods, his hand covering hers and Arthur's. "And we'd do it again." 

Arthur looks at them heartbroken, "That's why you're both insane. Bloody insane idiots! Are you not aware my father is _going to kill you_?" His hand wrenches away from under theirs to dig into his hair and he stalks the small area of in front of them.

Merlin chuckles, Morgana finding it painful and twisting,  as he says, "Of course we know, you prat, we know what execution means." 

"Really? Because you are certainly not acting like it!" Arthur's frustration is bubbling into anger, a noble anger that will make him a great king, but that's not today. She turns to Merlin to find him smiling sadly, the curl of his lips mirroring hers, because they both love Arthur, they both love him in different but equally powerful ways and this— their deaths— could break him. It's always been a selfish suspicion before, now, sadly, it's fact.

They will not allow it, of course, but he can't know that. Uther cannot suspect him.

"Arthur," Morgana calls out to him quietly and he stops turning to them, tears that he'll never admit to shining in his eyes. "It will be fine and one day when you're king you can change it all." 

"Not soon enough to save you both." 

Merlin begins to speak when they hear footsteps and Gwen appears in the doorway. Her eyes have the evidence of shed tears and she's carrying water and bread. 

"I… I didn't know if they were going to give food." She says, and Morgana feels a warm wave of affection for the other girl. Gwen then sees Arthur and begins to step out, "Oh! I guess, I mean, I should—I'll go," but Merlin stops her. 

"No Gwen, _stay_." 

Morgana smiles at her friend and beckons her closer. Gwen steps right to the iron bars, closer than Arthur did and begins to cry earnestly again. "U-Uther cannot do this to you, you are like his daughter." 

Touching Gwen's shoulder through the bars, she shakes her head, "Not anymore, my dear friend." Merlin's hand touches Gwen's other shoulder and her tears fall quicker. 

"I do not know what I will do without either of you." 

Morgana meets Merlin's eyes over Gwen. Without Morgana to serve Gwen will probably be kicked out the castle, or worse put under Uther's suspicion once again, but that will leave Arthur alone and that cannot happen. As it is they both also love Gwen in the same way, and do not want her to hurt either. 

"Arthur will take of care you." Morgana says, looking over to where Arthur is standing awkwardly and mouths _you will_. He only nods because he knows it's more than a request, but one last favour.

Gwen sniffs, nods and looks up at her and Merlin, and Merlin grins his goofy smile, "Actually I'm sure you will need to take more care of him as he will be useless without me."

It causes Gwen to laugh shakily, Arthur to glare at Merlin, and if it wasn't for the bars separating them it would be a perfectly normal moment between them. 

Arthur and Gwen leave shortly after and the guards enter the room again. From his separate cell Merlin sighs, whispering, "We did the right thing not telling them, right?" 

Morgana settles on the ground, shifting her dress around her legs, "It's safer this way." 

Merlin sits, facing the bars that sit between the two of them. "Right, safer."

They sit and do not move for hours. They do not even face each other letting the night past them. It's three hours before dawn when Merlin speaks, "It's time." 

Morgana turns and nods, standing to face him. Through the iron bars she twines her fingers with his as he begins the chant. Across from them the guards yell for them to stop, but Merlin and Morgana do not even acknowledge them. The words are falling faster from their lips and their eyes close. Despite the power they both hold inside they are still very young, and very new to much of the magic they do, and they're aware this could go horribly. It does not stop them and the chant falls faster from their lips. 

The flash that occurs, the blast that causes dungeon doors off its hinges is not part of the spell that transports them into a clearing half a day's ride from Camelot, it's a separate action. A sign for Uther, a mockery of his arrogance and ignorance; it's a sign for Arthur and Gwen as well, a symbol that they are not beaten yet.

The clearing is lit only by the waxing moon and Morgana takes in the cool pre-dawn air. She is exhausted, but _free_ and that is enough for now. 

"Merlin, what now?" She asks, for she has lived in manors and castles all her life and that life is gone now. 

He turns from where he been looking at the sky, looking sombre. "We're near the lake, we'll be safe for rest of the night. We should rest, after that spell I'm very surprised either of us is even standing, and head out in morning." 

"Where will we go?" 

A grin blossoms on his face, making him seems to glow with magic, "Ealdor is very nice this time of year, the flowers will be blooming soon. My mother will take us in." 

Morgana smiles, feeling somewhat relived for the plan, as simple as it is.

_It's a start_.

** 

They don't magically arrive to Ealdor, even knowing that they _can_. Not now, especially with Ealdor being the first place that Uther will think to look for them. The spell they used to escape the dungeons bends the laws of time _and_ space and that is no easy feat. Plus, it drains them and they cannot risk weakness. 

Having no horses, they must travel on foot, hence the journey will take twice as long.

It will take them twice the time if the elements are on their side.

They find the journey… interesting. 

**

In the past the Spartans would leave a young boy in the wild to strengthen the boy's constitution. 

In the future Native Americans will do spirit walks to understand the mysteries of themselves and nature. 

This journey isn't quite the latter or the former. It's well, something magical and really quite trying. Anyway neither Merlin and Morgana know about the Spartans or Native Americans.

It starts like this:

That first night they find a place suitably hidden by the trees and sit by a fire Merlin conjures and do not speak for a long time, the spell to escape the dungeons has exhausted them enough that it's not allowing them to worry about moving quite yet. Morgana watches a Merlin pokes the fire with a stick and the embers fly into the air. In firelight Merlin looks otherworldly, the shadows highlight the sharpness of his cheekbones and nose, his eyes look more golden than blue as if the fire is only bringing out what he hides and she can feel the longing for Camelot in him. Maybe it's her own longing, a voice whispers. She reaches out and covers her hand with his, smiling when he starts a bit and turns to stare at her.

"We should sleep."

He blinks, once, twice, before he nods, "I'll take first watch." He moves a bit and lays down the thin jacket he's wearing on the ground and smiles at her. She goes to argue but there's something in his eyes that stops her. It's the same look Arthur gets when he's _trying_ and she bites her tongue. She whispers a quiet _thank you_ and goes to lie down. 

Men, men like Merlin and Arthur, try so hard to be good, to do good, and she can hold back the roll of her eyes. This time at least, and to be honest, it _was_ rather sweet of Merlin to try and offer her comfort, however small.

"Do not forget to wake me, Merlin. You require rest as well," she half orders, half warns him, smirking when he agrees, clearly planning to ignore her. If she's feeling any sympathy for Arthur she'll never admit it.

**

When Morgana wakes the sun is filtering through the trees and she sighs, blinking at the small bit of sky she can see above her. She's slept outside before, that's not the problem, but she's always known she has a home to return to. Today there is no such guarantee and with that thought she pulls Merlin's jacket around her. 

Merlin's. Jacket. _Where?_

Sitting up, she remembers about her companion and searches him out. He's not beside her, she realises right away, turning her head finally locating him slumped against a tree, snores exiting his open mouth. The picture he paints is one of innocence and complete relaxation. For some reason that triggers a cold and unwelcome feeling her that pulls her to her feet. She whips his jacket off and moves closer to dump it on him when she stops. 

_Merlin, Merlin, Merlin,_ she kneels in front of him and covers his exhausted form, a hand lingering by his hair, _how do you live with such lightness in your heart?_

"Trust me, it's not that easy." 

His voice startles her and she snaps to her feet. Blue eyes are staring at her, a small smile completing the picture. 

"You were projecting, my lady." He offers as his excuse for listening in on her thoughts.

"I apologise if I woke you." Morgana moves towards where last night's fire used to be and turns her back on Merlin, listening as he moves around. "Your home, it lies to north does it not?" 

Merlin stands at her left and nods, "It does. If you're ready?" 

Morgana turns to face him, giving one last glance back to where Camelot lies. 

"I am." 

**

Before they continue out they stop by the lake for water. Merlin conjures them two wine pouches and fills them.

Morgana stares out into the water and blinks, feeling _something_, "Merlin?" 

"Oh, it's only Arthur's sword. Well, one day it will be, I suppose. I needed a safe place to hide it." 

Morgana can't help but laugh, "Your secret is safe with me." 

**

That day they walk and do not stop until the sun begins to dip back down on the horizon. 

This time they find a cave. It's dark and damp and between the two of them they manage to cook a rabbit, it's probably the worst meal Morgana's ever had, but it's the first she's ever made for herself and tastes better than she ever thought. 

It's an odd sort of freedom she's feeling. 

That night she makes sure to take first watch because Merlin will never wake her if he does. When she wakes him he hands her his jacket again, she takes it with no argument, and maybe they've fallen into a system.

** 

It rains for four days straight, but they keep walking, the forest becoming one giant wet, green, muddy blur. 

Her dress is ruined by the first day, but she doesn't even notice. Merlin slips down a muddy slope, cutting up his arms and legs on the second and she whispers quick spells to stop the bleeding. They don't stop walking, the rain they both know is a blessing. It will slow the royal guards if they are still searching for them. They speak very little in that time but they've taken to holding hands as they traverse the muddy ground.

The third night is when they _finally, finally_ find another cave. It's smaller than the other one, barely have room for two, and it's even _worse_. But it's dryer than everything else, so, really a _blessing_. 

The dress is sticky and itchy on her skin, she wastes no time to begin to remove it. In that split second Merlin reverts to the bumbling manservant from court. It's almost _endearing_. 

Almost.

"_Merlin_, I really think we're past the constraints of propriety by now. We need to dry our clothes and if it makes you feel more comfortable, I am wearing a shift underneath. Your virtue will be safe." She's really trying to not to smile, but this is the most levity she's felt in days.

Merlin's ears turn red, and _isn't that interesting_ as he stammers, "We could dry them with magic, it'd be quicker."

Morgana ponders this; it's true, but, "That very well may be true, but I will let you in on a secret about women: wearing the same dress for three days in the rain is not comfortable at all." Raising an eyebrow she gives him a look, "and unlike you men, women's clothing isn't quite made for traversing the forest." She undoes the final fastening of her dress and lets it falls. The shift underneath is not all that dry itself, sticking to her body in a way that might _actually_ threaten Merlin's (and her) virtue and she dries it fairly quickly. Turning to Merlin who is blinking rapidly and apparently the red had extended from his ears to his cheeks, Morgana lays out her dress on the ground slipping out of her shoes, drying them as well.

"Oh," Merlin manages a sound.

"Yes, now, aren't you going to dry yourself?" She quirks an eyebrow at him, stifling a chuckle as he snaps into movement. 

Merlin blushes as he waves his hand over his body and then goes about removing his jacket and shoes. "It's not funny," he mutters as he sits next to her watching as she lights the fire.

"Yes, Merlin, it is." She smiles and takes the jacket when he offers it. 

"For my virtue." 

This time she doesn't hold back as she laughs, when Merlin joins in she has this odd thought: 

_I think I'm happy._ 

**

Both fall asleep, exhausted, warm and dry.

Morgana dreams of the forest, of white robes, of obsidian runes, and a cold fire burning her fingertips. The images swirl together, drifting in and out of focus, and when her eyes snap out (as they always do) all she can remember is ice blue eyes staring at her and the feeling of magic. Next to her Merlin is still asleep and she can hear him murmur in a language she's only just begun to learn. Curling back down on the ground, facing Merlin, she closes her eyes and wills the anxiety of her visions away.

In the morning Morgana feels a solid weight at her back—Merlin, she realises. She should be angry, scandalised, but all she can think is, _warm_.

They wake up back to back, like children, and when they sit up Morgana laughs at Merlin's hair. He flicks a dry leaf at her and looking out at the slow drizzle outside the cave they decide they can take rest here for the day.

The day is spent warm inside the small cave and Morgana learns to conjure the Pendragon symbol with fire embers. When the finally leave the small cave the following day, grey clouds are still heavy in the sky and forest smells clean and new. 

Ealdor is less than a week away Merlin says as they find their path again. Morgana feels the forest watching and senses it has other plans for them. 

**

It does. 

**

Half way between Camelot and Ealdor, it lets them know as well: 

The Druids come out of thicket wearing the true white robes of their calling. They appear as ghosts in the greenery almost as if they emerged from the trees. The apparent leader, a tall woman with long pale, blond hair and dark brown eyes steps forward, her smile is barely a smile, but the power in her stance is unmistakable. 

"Welcome to our home, Emrys." Her voice is soft like the wind in the trees.

Next to her Merlin stiffens. 

"Who—" Morgana begins as Merlin curls his hand around her elbow, stepping closer to her side. 

"I do not go by that name." He states, uncomfortably. 

The woman slides her dark eyes trail over them, "No, I don't suppose you would." Morgana feels as if the sentence is incomplete but doesn't get to question it as the woman addresses her, "And I suppose le Fay does not go by that name either."

"My name is Morgana. Who are you?" Morgana questions, not appreciating the implication that this woman knows more about her and Merlin than they do about themselves. 

"I am sorry, le Fay, it was not my intention to make you uncomfortable." She says, but Morgana cannot feel any remorse coming from her, in fact, Morgana is sure the woman is laughing at her and Merlin. "My name is Anna, mother of Mordred." She continues, offering her hand, "please, join us, for saving my son you are honoured and welcomed in our home."

Merlin quirks an eyebrow, reminding Morgana of Gaius, "The boy we saved, he was your son?" 

Now the woman—Anna— smiles, it's wide and full of teeth, "Yes, he spoke highly of you both. You cannot imagine our amazement that my son was saved by you both." 

"Who are we to you?" Morgana asks. (She's not sure she likes this, at all.) 

Anna only turns her body to the forest. "Come, let me show you our gratitude." 

_Morgana, I'm not sure we should go._ Merlin drifts into her mind, a mixture of eager wariness.

_I'm not either, but aren't you curious? At any rate, we'd be protected and if Uther's knights haven't found them, we could be safe._ To be honest she's just as wary as Merlin, but something compels her to go with these Druids.

_It'd be nice not to worry._ Merlin agrees and together they decide they could do with a few days without outright fearing for their lives. 

"Thank you, we truly appreciate it." Morgana steps towards the thicket the Druid emerged from, following Anna, with Merlin at her side. 

**

_The Druids live in the trees_, Morgana always heard as child. The castle's whispers are loud when you know where to listen and as a child it also sounded so wonderful to live _inside_ a tree. Walking into the Druid camp, she finally learns the true meaning behind the statement and is amused to realise she hadn't been as wrong as she thought. 

The Druids truly do live in the trees, well, to be completely accurate, they live _with_ the tress. The camp is full of light and portable tent-like structures. There are so many of them too as she and Merlin enter the camp behind Anna that she curls her arm around Merlin's, glancing over to him as he holds her arm closer to him. This place is nothing like the expected, all green leaves and white robes, moving so in sync that it appears like a small village of ghosts. 

Anna leads them around, introducing them to various people. An old woman with the brightest blue eyes Morgana has ever seen mutter something in the Old Language, but she can't make it out. A man eyes them with awe and bows his head. He is not the only one. Anna is speaking about their practices when they are interrupted. 

"Mother," they hear in a voice so quiet Morgana can barely believe they all heard it, and turn to face a small boy walking towards them. Accompanying him is a man with eyes that a appeared blotted out by mist, holding an oak staff. But even as the man holds an aura of magic around him so heavy Morgana can barely breath, her focus is on the boy. 

It's Mordred. His blue eyes sharp and luminous as he looks at them, something passing in his eyes as he looks at Merlin. Morgana feels something pass, but can't catch it. Anna moves towards her son and Morgana registers their differences. Where Anna is light, Mordered is dark and where Anna is dark Mordred is light, but it's in their not-smile and large eyes that she can see their resemblance. As Mordred stands in front of his mother, her long fingers curling with affection over the young boy's shoulder, Morgana hears Mordred's voice for the first, well, second time. 

"Emrys, Morgana, welcome to my home." He smiles, his face lighting up and Morgana can't help but reciprocate. 

"I am so happy you are well," she kneels in front of him and passes her hand across his cheek.

"Me too! Good to know you made it home alright! " Merlin adds, almost too brightly. 

"Is it now my turn to protect you?" He tilts his face up to his mother and Morgana feels something in her chest lighten with affection. 

"Yes, it appears that way doesn't it?" She smiles and stands. Looking over her shoulder she motions Merlin over and loops her arm through his. 

Mordred and Anna share their odd smiles as they look at her and Merlin. 

Merlin fidgets. 

Morgana smiles.

**

During supper, she and Merlin ask to stay together. They get looks from all in the circle, but they are given consent. Unmarried as she is and as male as Merlin is (not matter what jokes Arthur has made) it is not an easy situation, but Merlin is the only person she trusts as completely as she can and the way some members of the camp look at them, she'll only admit she prefers having Merlin at her side. That night they curl together, face to face, and Merlin whispers, lips barely moving, his voice heavier in her mind. 

"We'll be safe here for some time, but we cannot stay." He pauses, looking into her eyes, "Unless. Do you want to stay?" 

Morgana thinks on this. She wishes she had a clear cut answer for him, for herself, really, so she gives the only truth she has at her disposal. "I do not know yet. There is something here, Merlin, something that tugs at me, but there is also something that pushes me away just as much." She turns onto her back and watches the stars that twinkle between the leaves. "I'm not making any sense, am I?" 

"You are making more sense than you think." She can feel his fingertips in her hair and closes her eyes, letting the sounds and feel of the forest lull her to sleep. It's the most peace she's felt in her life.

**

The time with the Druids will shape Morgana and Merlin in different ways. They will not realise _how_ until many years after they leave these people of the forest. 

Still, their time them was not badly spent. Not badly spent at all. 

**

Morgana laughs as Mordred creates a unicorn out of the embers of the fire and it chases the dragon she just made. Across from them Merlin watches with a smile, something that Morgana has noticed, has been rare since they decided to stay in the Druid camp. He is worried, she can tell. She feels it in his back when she curls around him at night. In his chest when she rests her head over his heart. 

Merlin wants to go home, and she wants to stay longer. He will not leave without her though, this, unfortunately might become a source of disagreement later on she fears. She decides to ignore this issue (for now) and concentrates on making her dragon out run Mordred's unicorn. 

"Merlin! Make yours!" She grins over the fire, before turning to Mordred, "Merlin's dragons are far better than mine. Much more fearsome, I would say." She nods, very seriously, very seriously indeed.

"You only say that because you think I'll rise to the bait." He smiles goofily over the fire to them. 

"Do you mean to say you won't?" Looking at him through lowered lashes, she laughs inwardly at the flush that occurs over Merlin's cheeks at her tone. 

"Please, Merlin. Make the dragon." Mordred repeats, _his_ tone as innocent as his smile. Over their weeks her he's warmed to Merlin, the cool distance he held at first slowing melting away. 

(She had asked Merlin about it. His answer had been disturbing and honest and she had been mad at him for days before she finally warned him if he tried anything of the sort, he'd be sorry. She would have stayed mad at him for longer, but she had understood why he had struggled. After all, it was why she struggled with her choices back in Camelot — Arthur. Arthur's life was worth more to the both of them than almost anyone else and she knew she only had to thank Merlin's soft heart for Mordred's life. She knew her own heart was harder, loved harder, protected with fierceness that scared her at times and while she would never admit it to him, she had been glad that when he revealed the truth to her that it had not been her given the choice. When she looks at Mordred, she likes to believe she would have chosen the same. She's almost positive she would have chosen the same. 

It does make her wonder, do the ends always justify the means? 

Do what's right's and damn the consequences, she said to Arthur once. What happens when what's right conflicts with your heart, she wonders at night sometimes. 

_Do what's right_, she repeats to herself when that thought drifts into her mind. She'll deal with the consequences after. Whatever they might be.)

"Yes, Merlin, _please_." Hers is not innocent at all. 

He pretends to wallow over the answer before blowing his breath into the fire, the dragon rising form the flames making wide loops in the air above them. Next to her Mordred smiles brilliantly, transforming his unicorn into a dragon to match Merlin's and she watches as they chase each other. Letting her own fire creature fall back into the flames she leans back against the tree and lets these two boys who have come to mean so much to her lull her into sleep. In their laughter, their magic she feels at home. 

**

"Morgana!" Merlin exclaims as she starts in his arms, her screams still caught in her throat.

Catching her breath, she searches their surrounding for flames she knows aren't _really_ there. Her eyes fall onto the dying embers of their small fire, the smoke only whispers in the air in front of them and relaxes. 

Not for long though, spine snapping straight as her dream--vision-- comes barrelling back into her head, her body turning to Merlin. 

"We have to go." 

Merlin stares at her, eyes searching her face, his thoughts brushing against hers. "Okay," he says and she knows: 

He saw the flames too.

**

The day they leave, Anna hugs them both. She draws separate symbols on their forehead in a dark red paste—for protection, she says, her stained fingers brushing their skin— and leads Merlin away for some private words. Morgana is left with Mordred for a few minutes and kneels down to his level, lightly runnning her through his hair. 

"Well, darling, it is time for us to leave." 

"You will return?" 

"One day, I hope so." Morgana smiles, hoping she's not lying. Mordred smiles back and she wraps her arms around him, feeling his small arms warm against her back.

Anna and Merlin return to them and extends Morgana her hand with a smile, "A word, le Fay?" She asks and Morgana doesn't even blink at the nickname bestowed on her anymore. 

"Of course," Morgana stands and lets herself be lead to the edge of the tree line, the wildflowers growing there are yellow and white, tangling with the roots of the trees, their only fragrance the forest. Morgana watches as Anna bend and plucks a few from the ground, twirling them in her long fingers. "I do wish I did not have to leave, but I do not think I can stay longer." 

Anna plaits the flower's stems and grins her not-smile. "I know, le Fay. I also know you will return to us one day." 

Morgana nods, "I hope so. Merlin and I have truly enjoyed our time here. We owe you so much, we'd love to return." 

It's a low chuckle Anna gives and it causes the skin on the back of Morgana's neck to prickle. "You will not return with Emrys, my dear." There is something Anna's words that stirs something in Morgana, something that feels like the beginnings of danger. Still, she holds steady as Anna cups Morgana's cheek and presses a kiss to her forehead, "When you return to us, do not ask for Anna, le Fay. Ask for Morgause, and you will find me." 

"Morgause?" 

"The names we are born with are not the names the Old Religion knows us by, le Fay. Well," Anna's grins is sharp and blinding, glancing towards Merlin, "not all of us." 

Morgana follows Anna's eyes and asks the question she's been holding back for weeks, "What is it about Merlin, Anna? What makes him so different?" 

Something flashes in Anna's eyes, "Merlin is no different than you, Morgana. You are both magic, born with it in your veins. Your difference does not lie in _power_ and never let yourself believe it does. You, Morgana— le Fay, are the Seer, only you can see what comes and can change it for the better. Do not let the rumblings of destiny make your path for you." Anna's voice is as hard as her eyes and Morgana finds herself taking in her words and nodding. 

"I won't." 

Anna's face changes to the smile of before and laughs, dropping the plaited flowers, now a crown on Morgana's head. "Good, and now I will wish a safe journey, fair queen." 

Together they move back towards where Merlin is standing next to Mordred and Morgana's mind eye flashes on white fire and dark clouds. She holds back her gasp and smiles, nodding, "Goodbye, Anna. Mordred."

"Blessed be." Anna nods back and like it happened weeks ago, she and Mordred disappear into the thicket.  

Turning to Merlin, she watches as the smile he had on fades away and his blue eyes cloud over. "Merlin?" 

He turns and stares at her for a beat, their eyes locking into one another. "Well, that was quite the experience, wasn't it?" 

"It was quite _something_." Looking into the forest, green and untouched, it almost seems as if the last weeks have been a only dream. 

Except. 

Their foreheads are stained blood red, she's wearing men's clothes for easier travel and Merlin's has the beginnings of a proper beard. It's not just those superficial and meaningless things, everything, somehow, and in ways Morgana cannot even truly comprehend (now, but soon she will), has changed. 

Merlin laughs and cups her cheek, bending slightly and pressing his lips to hers. "Ready to go home?"

She kisses him back, and nods against his forehead, smudging the paste. "I'm ready."

As they turn towards the forest, towards the path to Ealdor, Morgana feels it, one last look to where Anna and Morderd had just been, she feels Merlin's magic brush against hers, both more powerful than ever.

Destiny and fate are shifting. 

Both will soon bend to their will. 


End file.
